Treacherous
by Aranel Lissesul
Summary: Summery: When Legolas suspects an adviser of attempting to poison the king, the adviser gets revenge, and quickly. By the convincing of the adviser, Thranduil is soon convinced that his son is a ‘problem child’ and should be kept quiet.
1. Chapter 1

Summery: When Legolas suspects an advisor of attempting to poison the king, the advisor gets revenge, and quickly. By the convincing of the advisor, Thranduil is soon convinced that his son is a 'problem child' and should be kept quiet. Legolas is left to deal with his problems alone; will he ever gain back the father he once knew?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the advisor…long live evil advisors! XP just kidding. But really…Mandir is mine, so please don't steal him! Thank you.

Chapter One

"Honest Ada, I never meant to…" I began, only to be harshly cut off.

"Silence!" Ada barked. Then his face cleared of its anger and all that was left was bitter disappointment, somehow, this was worse then his anger. "I don't want to hear that you stole Mandir's knives again." He said in a quieter tone.

I tried again. "Ada I didn't steal them, I just wanted to…" But yet again I was interrupted.

"No! No, Legolas… I want you to stay here, and think about your punishment." He stormed out, forgetting to close the door. Jumping to my feet, I crossed the room in a single bound and slammed the door. I knew that would get me in further trouble, but I didn't care. As a 1000-year-old Elf, I was supposed to be considered a man, not an elfling, yet my father always seemed to forget that fact. "But I didn't do anything, I always get blamed…I hate Mandir." I grumbled. Ada and I were almost always in a fight, in someway or another. I remember yet another time when we'd had a fight all most like the one we'd fought only moments before….

//_Flash back._//

"I- I didn't mean to…" I had whimpered, tears blurring my vision as Ada closed the door behind him. Throwing myself on the bed, I hit the pillow as hard as I could, trying to get rid of the anger that was making my life miserable. I wished I was old enough to ride those war horses that my friend Rothen and Eladar were so proud of. Burying my face into the pillow, I growled like a wounded animal, envying my older friends. _They _got to ride those horses, why couldn't I? Ada was so unfair. I was 300, old enough to train as a warrior, why wouldn't Ada allow me to?

He had caught me trying to ride one of the battle horses, the girth hadn't been tightened enough, my small arms hadn't the strength to do so. The saddle had flopped from side to side; barely staying seated, I had managed to go halfway around the courtyard before Ada's servants 'informed' him of what his troublesome son was up to. The rest had been a blur; Ada had bustled into the courtyard, ordered me off the horse and, after a sound swat on the backside, sent me to my room.

Soon my pillow had a small wet spot where my tears had fallen. Sitting up, I grabbed up a feather pen and a sheet of paper off of my desk. I sat back down on my bed, leaning against the soft pillows. In my sloppy, hardly readable handwriting, I scribbled down my thoughts and feelings, venting my anger against Ada, against the world. When the paper was filled with my writing, I immediately picked up another, and succeeded in filling that one too, before my chin rested on my chest, and I slipped into dark oblivion.

//_End of Flashback_//

I sighed and stood in the middle of the room. My heart burned and froze at the same time with the anger I felt against my father. Remembering the way I had dealt with my anger before, I picked up the familiar feather pen and the smooth paper from my bedside desk. I had a strong desire to write, to pin down my feelings and force them out where I could see them instead of them flashing around in my head, taunting me with the fact that I couldn't understand my own feelings.

_Yet another fight with Ada today. Does he never give up?_

I scribbled. Tipping my head to one side, I realized that my handwriting hadn't improved much, still wispy and spidery, Ada hated it; maybe that was why it never improved. Maybe I never improved because I wanted to vex him… I smirked mirthlessly; everything I did seemed to annoy Ada.

He blamed me for stealing Mandir's knives. But I didn't! Mandir is always so careless, he probably misplaced them himself. Ada and Mandir know how much I want for knives like those, but I didn't steal them! Mandir doesn't like me to begin with. 

Mandir was my father's advisor. Ever since my older brother, Orophear, had died in a hunting party 600 years ago, and I had been named heir to the throne, Mandir had held a bitter resentment towards me. My older brother always told me that Mandir wanted the throne, but I didn't believe him, not until after his death.

_Mandir might have even hid the knives just to blame me; he's forever trying to shift the blame of something onto me. And Ada always believes him; Ada never finds any fault with Mandir. It makes me sick; Ada can't see what a viper that advisor is, and whenever I try to tell him my concerns about Mandir, he brushes me aside as if I were a pesky fly buzzing in his ear. It aggravates me so! I hate Mandir!_

My hand was moving so fast now, and shaking, that the pen slipped in my grasp. A large black slash of ink swept across the page. I sucked in a large breath of air, grinding my teeth together. _Calm down…_ I thought. Setting the paper aside, I stood up and walked to my window. Staring out at the courtyard below, I leaned on the windowsill, resting my chin on my crossed arms.

Wait, what was that? Craning my neck, I peered down at a corner of the courtyard, narrowing my eyes. Someone was down there, Mandir! My heart began to race in my chest, beating like a captive bird. I watched with a sick feeling as Mandir snuck over to the wall that surrounded courtyard and began to poke around the bricks. My heart jumped up in my throat, even though I knew what he was doing, my eyes refused to believe it. Mandir pulled out a loose brick and reached into the empty space. Out came two leather scabbards, the ones that held Mandir's knives, those beautiful, ivory handled knives.

I wanted to scream; I knew I hadn't stolen them! Mandir had those knives the whole time! I hate Mandir! Growling under my breath, I pulled the silk curtains over the window, I thought I saw Mandir look up at me, but I wasn't sure.

Looking around the room, I wondered if there was any other way I could vent my anger. I spotted my training knife on my desk and grabbed it up. Training always helped me calm down.

As I went through one of my older routines, I thought of how often I trained. I was really good now, and could hit a target blindfolded. I smiled grimly, moving my knife with lightening fast speed, switching the knife from one hand to the next in movements that the eye could barely see. Suddenly, in mid-strike, my hand lost its grip on the knife, and the knife went spinning through the air. I reached out to catch it by the handle, but my groping hands missed, and the knife hit my lower arm with a sickening_ thock_!

Blood welled instantly from the slash. I gasped at the fiery pain that shot up my arm, and my hand began to shake. Leaving the knife lying on the floor, I rushed into the bathroom for bandages. The bathroom door swung halfway shut behind me, but I didn't care, I didn't have time to shut it all the way. Blood dripped off my arm, hitting the floor with quiet drops. Grabbing up a towel, I wrapped it tightly around my arm, which was starting to feel tingly from loss of blood. I began to dig around in the bathroom cabinets for the bandage wraps. Finally, I pulled them out; my hands shook so badly that I could barely get them around my arm. At the sound of a quiet _click_, I whirled around, there stood Ada, and of course, Mandir. I thought I had felt someone watching me. I hate Mandir. "A-Ada…" I gasped.

My father's face was sad, and hurt. "Legolas, what are you doing?"

I groped for the right words, even lies. _It's not what it looks like…I was training and my knife slipped…I have had this habit for a long time and you were too blind to see it…I just started, it's not too late…_I considered all the possibilities. None of them worked.

Ada started again. "Mandir came and told me that you were in your room brooding, and I thought I had been too hard on you. So I come here to talk with you and tell you I'm sorry but instead I find you…" He trailed off, hurt and confusion evident on his face.

"Ada I, I'm not, I mean, I haven't been." I stopped babbling and pressed my lips together tightly. Let him think what he wanted to think, if Mandir had told him about me already, then nothing I could say or do would change his mind.

"Legolas, I'm disappointed with you." He started but this time, I cut him off.

"Yeah, what else is new?"

He looked taken aback. "What do you mean?" He demanded as I tried to push past him and Mandir. He grabbed my arms and I winced as he touched my cut. He loosened his hold a bit, but refused to let go. This angered me like nothing else.

I stuck my face in his, so close our noses almost touched and hissed. "I mean that everything I do seems to 'disappoint' you. Well I'm sorry I'm so disappointing! If I'm such a lousy son, then why do you even want me here?" I held his gaze for a moment before storming away.

Mandir had ratted on me, I hate him. I really hate him. Have I mentioned how much I hate him?

End of Chapter:

Hope you enjoyed reading my usless prattling, thank for reading and remeber to review on your way out. :o)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

I sat down at my desk and snatched up the pen and paper that had recently become my only friend. It had been two days since Mandir had told on me, and I still was angry with him. Ada was convinced I have a cutting addiction, but I don't! He never listens to me! Furiously, I scribbled on the paper all my secret thoughts and feelings. I had been spending more and more time in my room, so much so that I had become quiet pale. I let go of the pen and let it drop to the desk. Putting my face in my hands I rubbed my eyes wearily. The cut on my arm burned intolerably. With a sigh, I stared out the window, my head still cradled in my hands. I wished I could disappear…

Thranduil sat in his dimly lit study, poring over papers. A slowly dieing candle, whose flame flickered at the slightest puff of air, was the only source of light in the room. Thranduil paused in his work and took a sip of wine from the goblet that was beside him.

A panel in the wall slid to one side and Mandir stepped out of the secret passage. "Greetings, my liege" Mandir spoke softly, his voice was deep and serene, yet there was a quiet barb under his words that Thranduil missed.

Thranduil sighed. "_Suliad_, Mandir." He looked up and Mandir noted with wicked pleasure that the king looked exhausted.

"My lord, you look ill." Mandir said, his voice dripping with fake concern. "This job is too much for you, you should rest." He said, motioning languidly towards a couch in the corner of the room.

Thranduil nodded weakly. "I fear you are right Mandir, this job of ruling Mirkwood is starting to tax my health."

Mandir smiled in what he hoped was an understanding way. "Yes, yes I know. And your son with his cutting addiction…" Mandir made a 'tsk' noise with his tongue. "I wonder what went so wrong to drive Legolas to that state." He finished sympathetically as Thranduil made his way slowly over to the couch.

Thranduil groaned quietly as he lowered himself onto the couch. "Who knows? As you say, Legolas is a most unusual elf…"

Mandir shook his head in mock sadness. "He is but a child, my lord, you cannot blame him. How old is the young prince? Seven hundred?" He guessed, purposefully lowering the prince's age dramatically.

Thranduil sighed, covering his eyes with his hand. "I don't know, nine hundred maybe? I'm too tired to think straight right now, Mandir."

Mandir smirked, that was exactly what he wanted to hear. "Of course, I understand my liege. Would you mind if I helped work through some of your kingly tasks? That is my job after all, to help remove some of the _heavy _burden you bear my lord." He stressed the word 'heavy', hoping to throw the king into a tired set of mind.

Thranduil nodded, already starting to feel drowsy. "Yes, please Mandir, I need all the help I can get." His eyes started to droop shut and his breathing deepened.

Mandir nodded seriously. "I know my liege, your job is so hard on you, and sometimes I wonder how you can sleep at all." That did it, he knew, it would keep Thranduil from getting the rest he needed. It was all too easy; Thranduil was such an easy person to fool. Chuckling coldly, Mandir picked up the papers Thranduil had been working on moments before.

After working on the papers for a few minutes, Mandir cast a look at Thranduil, was he sleeping? He smiled grimly as Thranduil tossed and turned in his fitful sleep. Mandir saw that Thranduil's cup was still half full of wine. That wine would work excellently.

Mandir pulled a small vial out of his robe pocket; it was full of a dark blue liquid, this he poured just a few drops into the goblet. The potion was called 'Moonleaf', it was a simple potion, causing the person who drank it to break out in a fever, shiver as if with cold, be delusional, and have strange rashes appear on random parts of the body. Although, the potion was not lethal. The drug would wear off in a few hours, but long enough to worry the prince about his father's health.

Mandir walked almost soundlessly to the king's side. Kneeling by the couch, Mandir held the cup to Thranduil's lips. "Please, my lord, drink this, it will help you rest." Naïve to potion Mandir had slipped into his goblet, Thranduil raised his head sleepily and drank the tampered wine. With a shuddering sigh, Thranduil fell back onto the pillows.

Mandir smiled coolly and turned away. He had something else to do. Picking up a sheet of paper, he began to write as best he could in Legolas' penmanship.

_I am stuck… my life is worthless…Ada tries to make it right, but he cannot chase away the darkness I feel in my soul…it is like my entire being calls out for light even as I am being slowly succumbed to the darkness that has poisoned my heart…I am a failure, my cutting addiction grows stronger every day without ceasing. Eru help me. I fear I shall not walk this earth much longer. Each time I come close to giving up, something pulls me back. I shall leave though…soon…_

_Legolas Greenleaf_

Mandir smiled smugly. That ought to do it. Folding it in half, the traitorous advisor slipped the paper in an obvious place on Thranduil's desk. Standing, Mandir walked over to the couch where the king still lay.

Thranduil's face was flushed with fever yet his body was wracked with shivers. A strange rash was creeping up the side of the king's neck, red and irritated. Mandir nodded once, satisfied that everything was going as planed. Walking away, Mandir pulled open the secret door, and slipped inside, closing it softly behind him.

I sighed, I'll try one last time, if Ada doesn't believe me about the cutting addiction, then I don't know what else I can do. I thought. Standing, I walked to the door and, for the first time in many a day, left the sanctuary of my room. As I padded down the halls of the castle, I saw my good friend, Simi, walking towards the door that led to the outer courts. "Simi!" I called out, glad to see her. Even though she was my age Simi was often on guard duty, and I hardly ever got to see her. I waved and smiled as she turned to me and I jogged to catch up with her. The smile on her face froze. "Oh, greetings my lord." She said warily. I stopped, confused, this wasn't the Simi I was used to. "Simi, come on, you know I don't like being called 'my lord' all the time. What's wrong?" I asked. Simi frowned slightly. "Th- there is nothing wrong, my lord. I was just… just on my way back from a break if that is alright." "Simi!" I cried, hurt. The Simi I thought I had known was fun, full of life and laughter. She always joked around and made me feel like I was normal, instead of the heir to my father's throne. "What's the matter with you? You were never this cold to me before!" Her mask of politeness fell, and was replaced by hurt anger. "Oh really?" She snapped. "I hadn't noticed!" Did I mention that Simi could be very sarcastic too? Yeah, and has a hot temper. Once she gets going on something, there's no stopping her. This, was one of those times. "But I had noticed " she continued. "That 'my lord' didn't tell me about a certain cutting addiction that he had!" 

Hot anger flared to life in my chest at the injustice of it all. "I don't have a cutting addiction!" I retorted.

"Really?" Simi snorted, her sarcastic tone sharp as a whip. She crossed her arms and glared at me, her light green eyes smoldering. "Isn't that what they all say?"

"I do not!" I protested. Rolling up my sleeves, I showed her my pale arms. There were a few scratches from training and whatnot, and of course the fresh bandage from where the knife had cut my arm two days before, but other then that, my arms were fine. "See?" I added hopefully, holding them out to her. "Do these look like the arms of a cutting addict?"

Simi's eyes were glued to the bandage. "They could be." She replied coldly. She grabbed my wrist and pulled it closer, peering at the bandage. "So what is this Legolas? Huh?" She shoved my arm away as if it burned her. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

"But Simi…" I began.

"Just forget it!" She yelled, "I thought you were my friend Legolas! How could you do this?" Tears welled in her eyes. "Don't you realize that what you have done has hurt me? I don't know if I can trust you any more…" She pressed her lips together and took two steps back.

My heart was breaking; Simi was one of my only friends, if she left me alone… "Simi I'm sorry!" I called as she turned and ran off. "Wait!" But she didn't; instead, she left me, buried in my grief of losing my best friend. "Simi…" I whispered, feeling sick to my stomach. I didn't want to talk to my father any more; all I wanted was to hide away in the safe haven of my room. And so I stood there, outside my father's study, tears streaking my face as Simi's footfalls died away.

The study door creaked open and there stood my father. His face was flushed as if with fever, yet he hugged himself as if in a vain attempt to warm himself. He looked groggy and his clothes were disheveled as if he had been sleeping. "L…Legolas?" He muttered, rubbing a hand across his brow. I noticed a strange rash on the side of his neck, red and irritated.

I stared at him, my vision blurred by my tears. "Yes Ada?" I croaked, my voice cracking. I longed to run to him, to throw my arms about him so he could comfort me.

He looked at me tiredly, as if he just noticed me. "Legolas, my head hurts, could you tell one of the servants to fetch me some wine?"

I blinked back tears. Ada couldn't even see that I was upset; I knew his job weighed heavy on his heart, but to not even notice the tears that had been gliding down my cheeks? "Yes Adar…" I choked, pressing my trembling lips together tightly.

My father sighed and nodded. "Good boy, I'll be resting in my study. Good night Legolas." He turned and opened the door. He moved slowly, stiffly, like the old mortal men from Lake Town that came to trade with us at times. It grieved me even more to see him like that.

"Good night Ada." I turned away, closing my eyes against the pricking sensation behind my eyelids.

My eyes flew open again as a servant boy strode quickly by, carrying a pile of bed sheets.

"You there, boy!" I called, raising my chin with regal composure like I had seen my father do so many times.

The boy stopped dead in his tracks. "Yes sir?" He said, looking at me a bit oddly. His eyes flickered to my arm, thankfully, my sleeve hid the bandage.

I rolled my eyes to heaven. _Eru help me…_ I silently pleaded. "Fetch some wine for King Thranduil, boy, and be quick about it!" I snapped, my temper was short and I didn't need to be stared at under the false accusation of my so-called 'cutting addiction'.

The boy nodded. "Yes sir." He said, his gaze once again falling to my arms, searching, probing for any sign of a bandage or scar.

"Is my lord in need of wine?"

Both the boy and I turned and stared as Mandir walked over. He looked as if he had been hiding behind the corner, listening to what I had asked the boy.

My eyes narrowed involuntarily, I didn't trust Mandir at all, there was no way I was speaking to him after what he had tricked my father into believing. I glared at him and said nothing, so Mandir continued.

"Please, let me fetch it for my king, it would be an honor to serve my lord some wine."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Mandir saw the action and hurriedly went on, determined to say his piece and back me into a corner where I couldn't refuse his offer.

"Please, my only wish is to serve my lord…a-and his son…" He finished awkwardly; my glare was making him nervous, and he shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. I realized with some pleasure, that I was troubling Mandir!

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the servant boy sneak away, tip-toeing quietly so as not to draw attention to himself.

I felt my scowl deepen before I snapped in a very surly manner. "Oh don't trouble yourself Mandir, I'm sure you are _very _busy to begin with, helping my father rule the land and all." I smirked and finished sarcastically. "And besides, my father holds you in _such_ high regard that he would be appalled if he found you were fetching wine like a lowly servant."

Mandir, seeing that the servant boy had left and that we were now alone, changed his domineer. His eyes suddenly darkened and he lunged forward, clapping one hand over my mouth and the other gripped my arm. His eyes flashing dangerously he leaned forward, his face almost touching mine. In a quiet, threatening voice, he hissed. "I know you suspect me young _princeling_, but if you know what's good for you, you'll stay far out of my way. Understand?"

I glared at him over his hand that was still clamped firmly over my mouth. His eyes suddenly blazed; there was a mad, insane glint to them this time.

"I said, _understand_?" He growled, squeezing my arm so tightly that his nails dug into my soft flesh.

Grating my teeth together, I nodded stiffly.

Mandir's eyes calmed and lost their stormy look. With a smug smirk, he stepped back, pulling his hands away from me.

I scrambled backwards, infuriated.

Mandir gave a small, cold, laugh. "Good, I'm glad you agree." He bowed low in mock respect, I wanted to kill him. "Good day your _highness_." He mocked, then stood and stared at me challengingly, as if daring me to say anything to contradict him.

I suddenly felt cold, and frightened. I stepped back slowly, my eyes glued to Mandir, waiting for him to make a move on me. When he didn't move, I whirled around and raced for the end of the corridor, wanting to get as far away as possible from this mad man. I was about to turn the corner when I stopped and slowly, looked back over my shoulder. I was terrified that I would find Mandir staring right back, but he wasn't. He was gone. Somehow, this terrified me even more and gooseflesh crawled up my spine.

Gasping as if I had run a marathon, I whirled around again and raced to the safety of my room, sure that Mandir couldn't harm me there. Throwing myself on my bed, I wrapped the covers around my shaking shoulders. That evil, insane glint I had seen in Mandir's eyes, my mind's eye kept playing it over and over in my mind, and his words! Those threatening words that made my scalp crawl and my arms tingle with goose bumps. '_I know you suspect me… princeling… if you know what's good for you… you'll stay far out of my way…_'

I buried my face in my knees. I wished I could disappear, just be gone forever. No one would care, no one would miss me. I had lost my friend, I had, in a sense, lost my father, and a mad advisor had threatened my life, could life be any more difficult?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Wow, I almost forgot I had this story going! TT Sorry guys, didn't mean to make you wait THIS long…. I'll make up for it, promise. Here's a fairly long chapter for you and a free cookie!

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Tolkien, Simi, Ayden, and Mandir belong to me.

Chapter three

Mandir crept silently to one of the many secret passageways that snaked along the interior of the castle. He placed a hand on the wall and probed about until his fingers pressed into a grove in the wall that shifted beneath his fingertips. There was a soft _click_, then a panel in the wall slid out of place. Mandir pulled it aside and stepped in, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness as the door closed behind him.

The twisted advisor crept through the narrow, dank hall, climbing flights of stairs that were coated in spider webs and bat droppings. When he was far away from the secrete door, Mandir reached up and felt along the wall until his finger brushed against a small shelf. He patted the shelf's surface blindly, then, his fingers brushed against a candleholder. Grasping it, Mandir took the flint from his pocket and lit the candle. "Ah…" He smiled as a cold glow filled the hall.

He continued down the passageway, holding the candle high above his head. Shadows flickered in ghost-like shapes, lighting up only a fraction of the way and leaving the rest in darkness.

Mandir finally made it back to his room, pulling aside the painting that covered the passage. He stalked over to his door and locked it firmly. Now he could have some peace. "Thranduil's boy suspects me…" Mandir murmured, staring at his many books, thinking. "What would be a good way to rid myself of this problem…?" Looking over the shelves of books and scrolls, Mandir selected a few and sat at his desk. Lighting a single candle, he began to pour over the books, searching for any way to silently and swiftly get rid of the young price who by now suspected him of his true intentions.

* * *

I wrote until my fingers ached and my head throbbed. I had lost my best friend, what next? Simi was the only one who really understood me, she really seemed to care about the things I spoke to her. Could one filthy lie of a twisted advisor turn her from me so quickly?

My heart was breaking, I knew it. "Oh Simi, I'm sorry…" I whispered to my empty room over and over again. I don't think I have ever felt so rejected, so lost and alone before. Even when my brother died in the hunting party, I grieved for him, but no one could take Simi's place.

I picked up a sheet of parchment and a feather pen. I didn't even have to think hard before my emotions sorted themselves into words.

_My father had been walking around as if in a daze lately. He seems so tired, so frail. Is it possible for elven kind to deteriorate like the mortal men of old? He complains that his work is too much for him, and that he often has headaches. What do I do? What can I do? Nothing, there is nothing for me to do other then support him as best I can. Yet, ever since Mandir tricked my father into that blasted lie of me having a cutting addiction, I feel like my father has drifted even farther away from me. Someone help me, right before my eyes my very own father is crumbling. And at the same time, I feel like I am crumbling as well. Should I give in? Should I let Mandir have his way and give up the throne to him?_

I put down the pen and stood. I walked over to my window for what seemed like the thousandth time, I peered around the curtain and looked down at the courtyard below. Through the window, I could see my own reflection. What a sorry sight I was. My eyes were red and swollen from crying, my face pale and my hair array.

I sighed, "I'm sorry Simi…" I whispered again. Then, as I was about to turn away from my own miserable reflection, I caught sight of Simi, standing by the courtyard door on guard duty. I stared down at her, unsure for a moment, and then reached up, about to tap the window. I stopped. I didn't want to see that bitter sadness I had seen in her eyes before.

As if hearing the noise I hadn't made, Simi looked around, then up, her eyes locking with mine. We stared at each other for a moment, each wanting to break down the walls between us, but both doubting our strength. Then I slowly raised a hand, in a weak attempt to wave.

Her eyes were saddened and she turned away, ducking her head so her long golden brown hair fell over her face.

I stayed at the window, wishing she would look back up at me. I memorized everything about her. From her tall, slim figure, to her beautiful golden brown hair. Simi always hated her hair. That was the only thing she hated. She said it was an ugly color, not quite brown, but not quite blond like mine. I thought it was perfect for her. I couldn't picture her with any other color of hair.

I turned away from the window, tears falling once more. She didn't looked up at me again, not even once.

* * *

Thranduil sat at his desk, head in hands. His shoulders were hunched over as he sighed wearily. Thranduil dropped one hand to his desk, grasping for a pen. He was so tired, but if Lake Town's leaders didn't get the paperwork from their latest trade, it could be bad for Mirkwood's reputation.

He began to dig through his many stacks of paperwork, searching for the form that he had to fill out. Then, a curiously folded paper caught his eye. What was that? He hadn't seen that paper there before, but then again… Frowning, he picked it up and slowly unfolded it. As he read, his face was a mask of disbelief and sorrow.

I am stuck… my life is worthless…

When he finished reading, Thranduil stood, angry and hurt, clenching the paper in his hands. His son, his own flesh and blood had written this? He couldn't believe it. He had to talk to Legolas about this.

Striding to the door, Thranduil threw it open and walked briskly into the hall. Storming towards his son's room, Thranduil paused outside the door. He heard Legolas moving around inside then a whisper,

"I'm sorry Simi…"

Thranduil frowned. He cracked the door open just a bit to see what Legolas was doing.

Legolas was facing the window; he looked as if he were about to turn away, but then stopped. Thranduil watched him raise a hand weakly and wave a bit. Thranduil racked his mind, trying to remember who was on guard duty down there. Ayden and Simi… Simi! That was it, Legolas' friend, Legolas was waving to Simi.

Legolas turned away from the window, his eyes closed, tears trailing slowly down his cheeks.

All the anger Thranduil had felt moments before vanished like a summer rainbow and was replaced by a deep ach in his chest to see his youngest so hurt. "Legolas?" He whispered hesitantly, moving into the room and closing the door behind him.

Legolas' eyes flew open, anger evident on his face at being caught at his weakest moment. "Yes?" He snapped, brushing the tears from his face quickly. Then he caught sight of the paper that was still held tightly in Thranduil's hand. "What is that?" He asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Thranduil looked down at the note in his hand, all the accusing words he had planned to speak had evaporated, leaving him empty, and at a loss for words. Raising his eyes, Thranduil saw the pain his son was so valiantly trying to hide. _What kind of father am I to let my son suffer and not even take the time from my job to comfort him? _The thought raced around in his head, pounding against the walls of his mind, echoing, repeating over and over and over.

* * *

I stared at my father for a few for moments, waiting for him to answer the question. When he said nothing, I turned away, closing my eyes painfully.

I had seen the pain and grief in his eyes, I had seen the utter exhaustion and most of all, a feeling that I had felt many a day. Self-rejection, the familiar feeling that had haunted me nearly every night. And now to know that my father felt it too? It was almost too much.

A son is supposed to lean on his father, to look to him for wisdom, and guidance. A father is supposed to be responsible, to be there for his son when he gets in a fight or is feeling worthless. Not the other way around.

I felt the muscles in my shoulders tense as my father placed a hand on my shoulder. Then a soft, sad and weary voice whispered… "I'm sorry… I'm sorry for never being there for you Legolas, I haven't done my job correctly, and I'm sorry."

It was too much for me; I whirled around and was shocked to find tears gliding down my father's cheeks. "Why should you be sorry? You are the king of Mirkwood!" I swung my arms in a large gesture. "It takes a lot of work to rule a kingdom, and I know that!" What was I doing? Was I trying to make him take back his apology? "I should be the one apologizing!" I said, but even as I spoke tears began to roll down my cheeks again much to my annoyance.

My father watched me without saying anything, not trying to interrupt, not trying to finish his paperwork as when I had spoke with him like so many times before.

I felt childish, and silly. I shouldn't be crying, my father had enough to worry about then listening to my stupid problems. "I haven't been letting you do your work, I've been worrying you with the suspicion that I might be cutting myself, I haven't been trusting Mandir, I didn't cut myself that day, I was only training…" Suddenly, against my will, I found myself pouring out all that had been frustrating me. It gushed out like pus from a wound, finally able to be revealed. "And now I'm in a fight with Simi because she believes that I'm cutting myself but I'm not, Mandir tricked us all and you fell for it…!"

I realized what I was doing and stopped, clamping my mouth shut. I felt my face settle into the stone hard look that I knew would cover my feelings. " I'm sorry," I intoned, "I shouldn't have said…" I trailed off, waiting for my father to yell, or leave, or blame me. But none of those happened. My father pressed his lips together tightly, and I thought, _here it comes…_ I closed my eyes, hoping I wouldn't get yelled at. But nothing happened.

Instead, my father said the words that I'd never heard him say to me before. "You're right."

"What?" My eyes flew open and I stared at him, a bit startled. I wondered if I had heard him right, or if I was delusional. "What did you say? " I gasped, my eyes wide.

"I said you are right. I've been neglecting my duties as your father, and I'm sorry. I see now that there is so much more going on then I had thought. Why don't we talk about it?"

I was sure my jaw was touching the floor. "Y- yes, I…I don't mind." I stammered.

My father smiled tiredly at me then motioned for me to sit down on my bed. Sitting down beside me he sighed and stared at his hands for a long time while I waited for him to speak. Finally, he looked up at me. "You say you are in a fight with Simi?" He questioned.

I nodded, feeling my throat tighten. I swallowed hard, trying to loosen the tension. "She…She thinks I have a cutting addiction."

My father studied me. "Do you?" He asked softly, his gaze drifting down to the bandage on my arm.

I self-consciously laid my hand on my arm, covering the white cloth bandage. "No…" I muttered, looking away.

Thranduil was quiet for a moment, and then whispered. "What happened a few days ago Legolas? Did you really cut yourself then?"

I opened my mouth answer, but a sudden knock at the door made us both jump.

* * *

Mandir stood at the door, his ear pressed against the wood, listening to everything the two were saying. When he heard Thranduil ask if Legolas had a cutting addiction, Mandir knew he would have to intervene. Quickly, he knocked on the door.

* * *

Thranduil looked first at the door, then at his son. Legolas' face was dismayed, he didn't want to cut short the opportunity he had of talking with his father, his dad.

Legolas shook his head. "Dad, don't…don't answer it…" He pleaded, staring hopefully at his father.

Thranduil looked back at the door, then whispered. "We'll talk later." He smiled reassuringly at his son and patted Legolas' knee. "Come in." He called.

A/N: There you go, enjoy! And please please please review, anyone who does will be recognized in the next chapter upload. :)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry it has taken me so long to update, my life is getting crazy right now, hopefully it will settle soon.

Chapter Four

I sighed and sat on my bed, crushed. Mandir had interrupted our conversation, and now my chance of speaking truthfully with my father was gone.

Mandir had brought into the room an uncomfortable feeling of separation and silence as he delivered his message. He'd told us, my father and I, that the men from Lake Town were getting angry with the trades our people were making with them.

My father had instantly looked tired, as if this news had sapped all his energy and life right out of him. The two of them had left then, muttering about 'mortals' and 'paperwork'.

They left me, sitting here on my bed, my head hurting with the knowledge that Mandir had just snatched my father away from me. I moaned and cradled my head in my hands. After a few minutes, I stood and walked briskly towards the door; head high, a regal and almost haughty look on my face.

As I crossed my room, I caught sight of my face in the mirror on my wall. I froze, and then turned to get a better look. With a start, I realized that I looked just like my father! How many times had I seen that proud, kingly look grace my father's chiseled features? I leaned closer, studying my face. For a moment, it seemed like my father was staring back at me! I gasped and staggered backward, then shook my head at my foolishness.

There was no way I could ever be the leader my father had been before Mandir, but I would not allow myself to fall into the trap my father now struggled against. I turned and stared out the window, my face set in hard determination. I was not going to let my kingdom fall to the hands of that worthless advisor! I would take my place as king, royal bloodlines guarantied that. I was going to fix things before they got too much out of hand.

* * *

Mandir watched Thranduil pour over the mountain of paperwork that loomed up on the desk, casting a large shadow over the king. Mandir smirked, that would keep Thranduil out of the way for a while, now he needed to arrange for some wine to be sent to Legolas's room.

Mandir slipped out of Thranduil's study and snaked down the hallways, looking for the prince. He slipped his hand into his robe's deep pockets. Lying nestled in the depths of one of his pockets was a small vial, containing a crimson liquid that looked like wine. But that crimson liquid was really a lethal potion made of two kinds of herbs and a root: Spidersbane, Moonleaf, and Dragonsblood root. Altogether the three ingredients became a deadly poison that killed almost instantly. The Spidersbane would numb the victim, the Moonleaf would make them feel drowsy and the Dragonsblood root would quickly eat away at the insides, killing the victim while it slept. It was perfect, as soon as Legolas commanded a flask of wine to be brought to him, Mandir would find a way to slip the potion into the wine and the prince would be found dead in his room.

* * *

I quietly promised myself that I would not let Mandir rule me by fear, as a prince my ranking was higher then the advisor, and it was time Mandir figured that out.

I was about to turn away from the window to go speak with my father, when I saw Simi at the courtyards doors again. She was dressed in the usual guard's outfit of loose white shirt, leather tunic, leather breeches and knee high deerskin boots. Strapped around her waist was a belt with a long sheath containing a long dagger, and her bow and quiver hung between her shoulders.

I smiled softly, it was time to make things right with Simi, she was too good of a friend to let go so easily. Turning, I strode towards the door and headed for the courtyard.

I entered the courtyard and headed over to the stables, trying to work up my nerve to talk to Simi. I closed the stable doors behind me and walked over to a stall in the back of the stable.

Inside was a red roan mare with brown speckles dotting its hindquarters and face. I smiled and let myself into the stall. "Mára aurë bain." (Pronunciation: Mah-rah ow-ray bane.) ((Translation: Hello beautiful.)) I murmured, stroking the mare's head. "Manen nalyë Síla?" (Pronunciation: Mah-nehn nahl-yay SEE-la?) ((Translation: How are you Star?))

Star nickered softly, blowing a jet of warm air in my face. I sighed quietly and put my arms around her neck. "Ahh Síla… what am I going to do…?" I asked, breathing in her warm horsy smell. Somehow, just being around the mare gave me comfort.

I had owned Síla since my 990th birthday, and she and I had become good friends over the years, moving past the 'horse and master' idea into the 'friends' role that suited us much better then 'master' ever did. Star was getting old now and lived a life of a fat retired horse, but once and a while we still went for rides.

Even though it was supposed to be the groom's job to brush and clean Síla, occasionally I would brush her, more for my comfort then hers. Moving over to the box of brushes in the corner, I grabbed up the stiff brush and began to knock off the odd bits of hay in Síla's coat. "Okay, I'm going to go now, be good." I murmured, patting her neck fondly before moving towards the stall door.

Suddenly Mandir's voice slithered down the hall, sending chills creeping up my arms. I ducked down, pressing my back against the stall door and pulling my knees up to my chest. I hugged my legs and rested my chin on my kneecaps, closing my eyes tightly, hoping that Mandir would not find me.

"…Trust you?" Mandir voice inquired.

"You can." Confirmed a second voice, one I was not as familiar with. The footsteps stopped just a few feet away from my stall door, I heard a rustle of paper and I barely suppressed the urge to raise my head to see what it was.

"I want you to visit the prince, do anything to get him to order a flask of wine and slip this into the drink. It is just a small quantity, so do not loose it!" Mandir instructed. "Do you understand?"

The second voice hesitated then answered. "I…Yes. If I do as you ask, the prince will be dead by morning."

This time, I couldn't resist looking, I turning slightly, kneeling in the soft straw bedding of Star's stall. I peeked over the edge of the stall door and my eyes widened as I saw the figure Mandir had been speaking to. It was Ayden, one of the guards! The thing that made me remember him most though, was that he had been Orophear's best friend. My brother's best friend was going to kill me?

* * *

I slowly sank back behind the stall door, my mind refusing to register what had happened. The picture of Ayden standing there, taking a deadly looking white packet from Mandir, chilled me to the bone. What was in the paper packet, I wondered. Poison. It was the only possible answer judging from Ayden and Mandir's conversation. More talk startled me and I jumped, much to my chagrin.

"_If_ you do what I ask?! He'd better be dead. I don't want to see him again, you hear me?" Mandir snarled.

Oh Eru…Mandir was so awful! He sent shivers down my spine. Much to my own horror, I realized I was afraid of this advisor. That made me angry. Mandir wasn't going to scare me anymore! I felt like jumping up and screaming at him. 'See! I'm not scared anymore! You hear!? I'm not scared anymore!' Of course that would be stupid.

"Yes! Yes! I understand! You can trust me!" Ayden sounded panicky, like he was having a hard time convincing Mandir that he was trust-worthy.

Mentally, I snorted in disgust. This wasn't the Ayden I remembered. Ayden and my brother had been life-long friends. Once, Orophear had confided in me that Ayden knew all his secrets. _"All?" _I had asked in disbelief. _"All." _He had confirmed, a distant look in his eyes. He had turned to smile at me then, his eyes shinning kindly. _"Ayden is trust-worthy, little brother." _He had said. _"I'd trust him with my life."_ I smiled ironically as I remembered my response. I had naively said, _"Well. If you can trust him with your life, then I can trust him with mine."_ We had both laughed then, and my smile softened, remembering my brother.

"I hope, for your sake, that I can." Mandir's voice wormed like a snake through my thoughts, jolting me from my trip down memory lane. A crackle ripped through the air and I heard Mandir whisper. "Do not let me down…the consequences will be fatal if you do..._Heniach nin_?" (Pronunciation: Hen-ee-akh neen) ((Translation: Do you understand me?))

I peeked over the edge of the stall door, moving slowly so as to not attract attention to myself. Mandir had one hand on Ayden's shoulder and had been whispering in his ear. When Ayden didn't answer, Mandir drew back and slapped Ayden hard across the cheek. Ayden's head was whipped to one side and an ugly, mottled bruise began to form on his left cheek.

"I said…" Mandir began, and then lunged forward, grabbing Ayden by the throat and pinning him to the wall. "Do you understand me?" He hissed, his face inches from Ayden's.

Ayden's eyes were wide and he nodded, his lips parted slightly as he fought to breathe. His hands fumbled helplessly at Mandir's grasp on his neck as he wheezed for air. His brown eyes were panicked as his air supply was withheld from him. My heart clenched in worry and pity. Even if this elf had been given orders to kill me, he was still my brother's friend…right?

Mandir held him there a moment longer then stepped back, letting go of his hold on Ayden's neck. He watched coldly as the elf fell weakly to the floor, gasping, choking, and gulping for sweet air that had recently deprived of him. "See to it that you do not fail me. You know now what awaits you if you fail." And with that, my father's advisor turned on his heel, his rich red clothes swirling about his ankles, and briskly walked out.

I slowly sank back down as Ayden got to his feet. The image of Ayden's bruised face hardening in fear as he was strangled haunted me and I couldn't chase it from my mind. I heard Ayden moving away slowly and I closed my eyes, resting my forehead on my knees. What was I going to do now?


End file.
